


Unexpected Meeting

by Peppermint_Patty



Category: RWBY
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:45:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Patty/pseuds/Peppermint_Patty
Summary: James visits Ozpin's statue and talks to a mysterious woman





	Unexpected Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHAH THIS ISN'T MY BEST  
> So like, I kept thinking of v6 e9 and the statue scene, and I had this thought of what if there was one for Ozpin? So I made this  
> I'm sorry if there's any mistakes, if so please correct me (kindly)!!

Vale held a grand memorial once it was safe, the memorial invited everyone, families, survivors, those who wished to pay respect, to the massive marble stone wall with every single name, Faunus and human alike, who tragically lost their lives during the fall of beacon.

 

It didn't matter if they lost it trying to fight, to save others, and or trying to leave, their names were honored regardless.

 

James stood in front of those stones, searching for a name, _his_ name. The names were in alphabetical order, A to Z. First to last name. His tired eyes scanned the "O" section, they roamed up and down, glazed over hundreds of names.  Dozens of names and not a trace of _his_ name, James began to think those in charge of writing the victims forgot his name. He clicked his tongue and walked to the other side when something caught his eye.

 

There stood a tall, stone grey, statue of the man he was looking for. Ozpin. James walked slowly up to the stone, his eyes widened in awe at it. He didn’t notice that he walked on the steps the statue had, all three steps decorated with flowers from former students, huntsmen, and faculty members left behind along with newly lit and burnt out candles.

 

Ozpin stood with his head bowed and his eyes closed, his hands rested on his cane in front of him. Various kinds of colored flowers scattered at his feet. James took a moment to be mesmerized by the detail the statue had, the way his glasses were bent oddly, the way the artists captured his silvered messy hair and the wrinkles in his suit, along with the carvings his cane had. His eyes roamed to his feet to the golden tomb stone that read in giant letters;

 

“ **_IN LOVING MEMORY OF PROFESSOR OZPIN._ **“

 

And in smaller letters

 

“ _Fought viciously for his school, he will be dearly missed._ ”

 

He whispered those words softly to himself, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he saw the man in person and his last conversations with him. He couldn’t help the small spark of guilt that flickered in him, how he convinced the council Ozpin should be removed from his position, and never in the short time he had left did he throw it at the General’s face. He became so lost in thought that he didn’t noticed the woman next to him.

 

“It’s a beautiful statue, isn’t it?” she said softly.

 

James, startled out of his thoughts, turned to the woman. He felt his breath involuntary escape from his mouth. The woman before him had those same golden brown eyes, her silver hair done in a messy braid, she was pale and thin, she wore a cross necklace that was nearly identical to the one Ozpin wore daily.  She was shorter than him, if he had to guess she was just below his shoulder. She wore a soft wool black sweater and with a green scarf, her shirt and skirt where black along with her flats. Her face has slight wrinkles around her eyes and by her lips. She hugged a bundle of white roses.

 

“I..Indeed, it is.” James replied, his voice just as soft.

 

“You know… nothing is more tragic than a parent outliving the child.” she looked back at the statue. “You hear stories about it, but you never think of it happening to you. Not until it does happen.” James blinked and nodded along, giving his silent agreement. He couldn’t relate to the woman since he had no children of his own, but can pity her.

 

“My son, you and him were on speaking terms. Were you friends?”

 

_My son..._

 

_Friends…_

 

Could James even called himself Ozpin’s friend? Friends don’t convince councils to fire them, or bring robotic armies to their kingdoms. He wanted to object, to say that he wasn’t his friend, wanted to tell her that Ozpin has done nothing but trust him and James repaid him by trying to get him fired. But what made him hold his tongue was the way the woman looked at him, the way her brown eyes were wet with unshed tears and gleamed with the fragile hope they carried.

 

“Yes..we were friends..”

 

The woman sighed. “I’m glad. My boy was always the odd child, It’s good to hear he at least had someone- even it was just one person- to call a friend. To trust.” she wiped her eyes. She ducked her head and sniffed.

 

“Ozpin, he had a thing for sweets. The poor thing inherited my sweet tooth. I remember on cold nights, he’d often request Hot cocoa for dinner- in fact it was every night- and I often told him that he needs his vegetables. I had hoped he’d get tired of Hot Cocoa eventually.” She paused to fully turn to James. “But we both know he never grew out of it, did he?” She smiled.

 

James could only stare at the mystery woman, He could have sworn he saw Ozpin for a split second, he was the spitting image of this woman. For a second he believed he was speaking to Ozpin and not to a stranger.

 

“No. He always carried that mug with him, and in his office, he always had a fresh pot ready, Along with a plate of hot chocolate cookies ready to be eaten. By him or his visitors- I could never tell.” James admitted.

 

She chuckled. “Yes, he demanded to eat cookies instead of his vegetables when he was a child. His reasoning was that if drinking milk makes him strong, he should have cookies with it because milk and cookies go together and vegetables and milk does not.” she placed the roses by the statue’s feet. She let out a soft sob.

 

“He always was something else. I remember the day he told me about a voice in his head and the day he received that cane. At first I thought he was ill when he told me about that sudden voice, but he told me not to worry. Then he left to be the Headmaster. He was so young.”

 

She stands and wipes her eyes. “I regret letting him leave without putting up a better fight, to be stronger when he give me that smile and the reassurance that he would be okay. But if I stopped him, then I’d prevent him a life where he had someone to call a friend.”

 

“He used to be so shy, so afraid to fight. You can’t imagine how proud I am to see him grow into a man who laid down his life for his students, that courage… It’s unspeakable.” She moved to place a hand on his shoulder.

 

“I’m just glad he met someone who was there for him in the end.”

 

James looked away from her. His fist clenched and his shoulders hunched. “Ozpin should still be here and if only if he _listened-_ ”

 

“But he is.” she gestured to the statue. “I think... I think he knew the risk he took, that he had a mission-a responsibility- to try, even if he didn’t make it in the end. I don’t think he would ever regret his decision because deep down, he understood that he had a choice to make. He was always putting others before himself, and so he did.”

 

James let out a shaky breath. “You raised him to be an extraordinary man, in ways many people don’t seem to understand.”

 

The woman was silent, she removed her hand off his shoulder. “Thank you, General Ironwood.” James turned to face the woman, but when he did, she was gone. His reply died on his tongue. He looked around the memorial for the woman with the silver hair, his eyes swept across the courtyard until they met with sadden green eyes.

 

Glynda stood in front of him now, her blonde hair softly swayed in the wind, her usual clothes were replaced with a long maroon sleeved coat, with a grey shirt underneath and dark pants took the place of her skirt, her heeled boots were replaced with winter boots. She briefly glanced at the statue and her lip wobbled.

 

“Let’s go.” her voice cracked, though James didn’t comment on it and let her lead him away from the statue. He took one last glance at it, his guilt deepening a little more, then he looked forward.

 

He replayed his encounter with the mysterious woman. Like mother, like son.


End file.
